


May dies in this one.

by nightsisterkaris



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Major Character Injury, May dies you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsisterkaris/pseuds/nightsisterkaris
Summary: Turning around to give May a triumphant smile, he didn't see her.But he did hear the sound of ragged breathing, and saw a HYDRA agent standing over May. She was still. Unmoving.





	May dies in this one.

**Author's Note:**

> yes, there is a bit of Obitine influence. 
> 
> And no, I didn't have the heart to give this a more emotional title.
> 
> WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (obviously)
> 
> Note: if you want some redemption, read the alternative ending I've added at the bottom. But if you want all the raw angst, go on ahead and skip it. 'Cause I personally hate fics where one of my OTP members die. *Contemplates my entire AoS life, with Phil dying every season* Its tough, okay? I literally cried writing this.
> 
> -nightsisterkaris

   Melinda gave Phil a determined smile, and ran back into battle. Phil followed, her courage contagious.

   Firing his I.C.E.R., Phil knocked out another HYDRA agent, and saw Melinda engage another attacker in the corner of his eye. Punching the agent, he heard a gunshot, and a crash. Assuming Melinda had killed another HYDRA baddie, he quickly finished off the last two that he had been fighting.

   Turning around to give May a triumphant smile, he didn't see her. But he did hear the sound of ragged breathing, and saw a HYDRA agent standing over May. She was still. Unmoving.

   Raising his I.C.E.R., Phil used his last bullet to shoot down the man. He rushed to Melinda's side.

   There was blood. A lot of it. He noticed the wound in her side, just below her shoulder. He pressed his hand to the wound, but more of the sticky red liquid just oozed through his fingers. His nostrils burned with the metallic scent, and Melinda was trying hard not to show pain.

   "Hey, Melinda, you alright?" He asked. Stupid question. Of course she wasn't alright.

   May just rocked her head back and fourth, trying to breathe. Phil noticed the gurgling sound. She had blood in her lungs. In a panic, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, trying to force air into her lungs. But she tasted like blood too. "Come on, Melinda." He chanted silently.

   "Ph..Phil?" She sputtered, her eyes closed.

   "Yeah. It's me." He said, trying to put pressure on the wound. He carefully poked his finger to it, examining it. He cursed.

   The bullet had hit her lungs and heart.

   He freaked out, and scooped her up. "Don't." She gasped.

   "We need to get you to Jemma. You'll be fine." He said. Deep down, he knew he was lying.

   "It'll take... To long..." She said, her breaths getting shallower. "Just.. hold... Me..."

    "I am, Mel." He whispered, collapsing by her side, cradling her body. Her head fell forward against his chest, weak. Phil folded himself over her, hoping to somehow eclipse Melinda with his feeling of love. Panicked love that prayed that this whole situation could be fixed. That she would recover and return to him. She always came back!

   "Just.. hold me... close." She breathes.

    _He's never told her. Never told her he loves her._

   "Phil..." She coughs. "I've loved... You... Always" She gasped. "I always will."

   He watches the light leave her eyes, the light that he's always loved, always taken for granted. until now.

   "I love you too!" He says quickly, desperately praying that she somehow heard it. "I love you, Melinda." His voice cracked. "I love you, I love you, I love you." He repeats over and over as her body grows heavy and limp.

   Daisy finds him there, two hours later, still sobbing, denying her death, still whispering sweet nothings, tears mixing with blood. There is nothing Daisy can do but fall beside his shaking form. "Come on, Coulson." She finally whispers.

   "No!" He yells back, striking out, his hand coming back immediately to hold Melinda closer, his hand brushing through her silky dark hair.

   "Coulson, I know-" Daisy softly tries again, hardly holding back her own tears.

   "No, YOU _DON'T_!" He is hysteric, quivering as he holds the dead body of his love.

   Others try, and get the same reaction. They can't tear him away.

   Someone brings in a body bag. He screams at them. He'll carry her out himself. She always had hated those big black zippers that locked away the body.

   The team can't come near Phil, until he walks out of that building, carrying Melinda's body. He won't let go, and Jemma pronounced her dead, tears in the scientists eyes rolling down her face. The Zephyr is flown by some other agent. Melinda won't be piloting his planes ever again.

   When the plane touches down at base, Phil carries her once again, agents silent as they congregate in the hall, watching their director crumble as he walks by, Daisy and Simmons in a flanking position behind him, tears in their eyes. Phil makes his way to the medical bay, holding Melinda's limp body, careful as he passes through door frames to keep her close, safer than earlier. He forces himself to set her down, and he pulls himself closer next to her, still whispering his love for her as he touches her face. It's too late.

   Eventually, he tears himself away, letting go. Melinda's body finally cools, having been warmed by his own for hours past.

    Phil just stands there, staring at her body. She looks at peace, he decides, her beautiful features pale and cold. It just makes him cry again. Phil finally leaves, arriving at his room, he closes the door behind him. Phil stares at his bloodsoaked refection in the mirror. It can't be real. Any second now, she'll come walking in, a smile on her face.

_Any second now._

_'Phil... I've loved you always... I always will.'_ It echoes, round and round in his head like a terribly precious song.

   His hands ball into fists, and he punches the mirror. Shards fly across the room, shattering. Just like his heart.

   He notices one of her shirts laying on the dresser, her toothbrush in the bathroom, her boots by the door. She can't be gone. She can't.

   Phil's hand bleeds from the glass cuts, and he blames himself. All he can see is blood. Her blood, pooling on the ground.

_'Phil.. I've loved you always... I always will.'_

 

 

   Days later, he has eaten hardly anything. The team mourns, and worries. He had hardly gotten through her funeral, having to leave several times just so his team members wouldn't watch him cry.

   When it's his turn to speak, he stutters. No perfect little speech. Not happy story celebrating her life. Just a warning. _If you love somebody, take the risk. You never know who you'll lose tomorrow._

  Mack holds him tight in a strong hug. "Only real men cry." Mack whispers, letting his own tears fall.

  Phil approached the coffin. Her hair was curled, makeup done. "I love you too, Melinda." He whispers, and leans down to briefly pass his lips over hers, and their foreheads touching for one final goodbye. "I love you. I always will." He says.

   Daisy lingered longer than anyone else, trying to support a broken man. "You've stood here for hours." Daisy whispered, watching him stare at the tombstone with her name carved in cursive.  _Melinda Qiaolian May_. He never expected to see her name on a tombstone. Now, he understands how she must have felt after New York. Only he knows that Melinda is never coming back.

   "She didn't deserve this." He says. The sky is bright and happy, almost mocking him by not raining and filling itself with grey clouds.  "I know." Is all Daisy can say as she violently yanks all the petals off the rose in her hands, throwing them to the wind and watching them swirl to the ground. Daisy turns away, leaving Phil alone.

   A week later, and he can still hear her voice, teasing him, her cheerful sarcastic comments ringing through the halls, her instructions to Daisy as they sparred, her soft comments as Melinda would pull him away from work to sleep beside her and keep away night terrors. Any second now, she'll appear and tell him he needed to sleep.

    _Any second now_.

   Phil still hasn't washed the shirt with her blood on it. He just can't. He doesn't have the heart to throw it away.

   Phil moves to writing her letters. It's a therapy, almost. He writes about how he once wished how their life could have played out in another universe. He writes about the where where he was the one getting to save her for once. They went out to dinner and they would dance. She would laugh and call him a dork, and he reply with, "But I'm your dork."

   It's something he has to do. Because all he sees when he closed his eyes is her face. And all he hears is, ' _Phil... I've loved you always... I always will.'_

 

 

 

 

 

 

**\--------- -:x:- ---------**

**(A/N) Alright, You heartless fools and angst loving people, just skip over this.. those who can hardly read the letters anymore due to tears (me included), listen up. Life support is here:**

**\--------- -:x:- ---------**

 

   "Phil." He could hear her voice calling him. "Phil? Phil!"

   He closed his eyes, and he felt someone shake him. "Phil. Wake up. Are you okay?"

   "Melinda?" He croaked.

   "Yes?" Her dark form came into focus.

   "You're... Alive?" He stared, the darkness of the room only revealing so much. Phil reached out to touch her face on the other side of the bed.

   "Yes." Melinda laughed, "and you had a nightmare." She said, rolling over the pillow to wipe her fingers across his face. "You were crying in your sleep." Melinda softly said, her fingers taking the tears with them. "Are you alright?"

   "Yes.." Phil hugged her tight. "I'm better now."

   Pausing, Phil told her, "Melinda, I've loved you always, I always will."

   "I love you too, Phil. Now get some sleep." She chided.

   "Good night."

   "I love you."

**Author's Note:**

> . . . I'm sorry?


End file.
